Unveiled

"Valery, you can take the day of tomorrow. Delane's covering your shift," my boss, Jordan, called out to me.

I made a noise that said, yeah fine whatever. Delane's covering my shift is a way of my boss saying, 'I pity you so I'll not make you work as hard as everyone because of your disability.' A disability of my eye, oh please, cut the crap and take the first three words, I pity you.

Did it ever occur to anyone that disabled people kind of really hate pity? Pity is another way to show allegedly inferior human beings that what seemingly superior ones have can help them and they wish to give help or assistance in forms of sympathy...because they know they can flaunt it in one way or another. Maybe I'm being too opinionated and not all people have this perspective, but honestly, I'm still living and breathing; I'm still walking aren't I? There's no way I'm going to die just because I lost vision in my left eye.

"What the actual hell, Jordan? That girl is a strong, independent female. Stop trying to be subtle with your pity, she doesn't need it nor want it! I've seen how she works and by god if she's not the most competent worker in this place than I don't know what's wrong with the world!" My work mate of twenty-nine scolded my boss.

"But...she's still in high school. Being half blind in high school and working a part time job might be too much too—"

"Um, yeah hi there, I'm half blind, not deaf," I muttered apathetically and Sheila smiled apologetically next to the ashamed Jordan.

Yeah, you should be ashamed.

"Don't worry about it. I've actually got something I have to do tomorrow afternoon," I sighed and walked out without a second glance back when I saw the shadow pass over.



"I'm home," I called out, although I knew no one would answer. My parents, who've gone through a tough five years since my accident—even though I haven't—were always away doing their jobs to support my education (the best) and give me all the things I wanted. Well, there's one problem about that sentence. Giving me all the thing I want? Just because I got mixed up into an unfortunate "tragic" accident leaving me half blind doesn't mean I suddenly have the right to get whatever I want. My parents obviously don't understand me. What I need is food, water, clothing, shelter and love. I have all of them but the last one, it seems. The material world sometimes makes me think it's only a matter of time before humanity kills ourselves.

I padded my way upstairs without so much as a heavy sigh as I opened my bedroom door only to find a boy sitting on my , hugging my pillow.

"I love your room. There's no one here to disturb sanctuary. At my place there's too many of them," he like a little kid. I still think he's thirteen and not seventeen.

"How the hell did you get into my house, Zero?" I mumbled, somewhat more sounding like a loser than a strict, if not appalled, teenage girl who has one helluva bizarre blind boy in her room, sitting on her bed.

"Oh you know, the usual way. Why do you ask that question every time you come home from school?" He pondered aloud.

"Because it's what a normal teenage girl would do—actually, maybe a normal teenage girl would beat the crap out of you with her metal bat, eh?" I raised my brow at him in suggestion but he smiled, his dimples showing through.

"But you're not normal so I'd like for you to greet me another way, say maybe, a kiss hello?" He cheekily suggested.

"Say that again and the only kiss you'll receive is the one from the paramedics when I drown you and make it look like an accident," I huffed and he laughed lightly.

"Dark humour, I like it. It's what usually gets me through the nights," he sighed.

When I looked at Zero I saw a close to pale boy with dark brown hair, his fringe whipped across the left side of his face, only his blind right eyes showing. For a blind guy he sure knew how to look alright even though he couldn't see himself. Did he have some personal stylist or what?

Come to think of it, I knew nothing about Zero.

"That's because you never asked. Although, for the record I won't answer. My life is kind of...well...private," he replied sheepishly.

Oh I didn't realize I said that out loud.

"Wow, nice reply. Ever think mine's the same?" I grinned with an irritated spark in my eyes.

He grinned right back. "I know."

Despite his annoyance, it was kind of hard to hate him.

I liked having someone my age with the same condition. Someone I could relate to—or in this case, just talk to.

The only problem was I still didn't know anything about him except his name is Zero and he is blind.